Terrible Lie
by Glass Bullet
Summary: Vash has always been the hero, but is he everything he seems to be? Knives claims that he is not the villain, and Meryl tries to figure out who is telling the truth.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **No. I don't own Trigun, nor do I claim to... I do, however, own a very dark, twisted, and otherwise perverted mind.

**Author's Note: **It's embarrassing to say, but it must be said, so that people don't get confused. I posted a story of the same title with the same concept a few months ago, then deleted it because I felt it was severely lacking. I think this is a vast improvement over it, and hope anyone who read my previous disaster thinks so too. To be quite honest, I'm tired of reading Vash hero fics (which is why I don't write them, although I do enjoy a good twincest pairing) and I tried to think of something that hadn't been overly done. With all this in mind, I sat down and stared at some paper for an extremely long amount of time and finally, at 3:26 a.m. (the magic hour) I came up with this. If it's not clear when it takes place, it's after the end of the anime series.

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

Meryl had been waiting all week. Milly walked slowly with her, repeating the room number as they reached the hallway that unmistakably held the patient they desperately sought. It was long, narrow, and dimmer than any other part of the building, exaggerating the fear that always knotted everyone's stomach at the thought of the thing at the end. Today there were only two people outside the large metal door, and she smiled as her partner took a moment to show their credentials. Meryl reached for the clipboard outside of the room, trying to seem nonchalant. It was packed with test results, theories, and a small sheet of paper stapled to the front that gave her all the information she could want. 

_ INEPRIL PSYCHOLOGICAL & PSYCHIATRIC GROUPS_

Patient No.: 01343 ROOM #: 109

**LAST**: KNIVES **FIRST**: MILLIONS ** MI**: N/A

** AGE**: N/A ** D.O.B.**: N/A **SEX**: M

** HEIGHT**: 180cm **WEIGHT**: 83.5kg **BLOOD TYPE**: O POSITIVE

** HAIR**: BLONDE ** EYES**: BLUE **RACE**: N/A - PLANT uncontained - _Specimen observation 01_

Assigned to: M.D. COUNCIL 2

** DIAGNOSIS**:  
Sociopath with acute narcissistic disorder, characterized primarily by delusions of grandeur and intense misanthropy. Hallucinations and delusions characterized by the treatment of plants as persons; including speaking to, "listening" to, and fondling decorative flora in the institute waiting room and rec rooms.

CURRENT:  
Psychotherapy / INCONCLUSIVE  
Medication / OLANZAPINE 15mg

COMMENTS:  
Code 301.81; passive/aggressive.

* * *

White. 

_Annoyingly_ white. The room was so white, Knives could hardly stand waking up to it every day. Even the dust and the dirt was white, gathering in the corners on bare white linoleum, under the neat edges of a white mattress. Sometimes he felt like he had been engulfed by a tranquilizing cloud. Goddamn the color. Goddamn it all. No one believed him and they never would. He was the bad guy, after all.. compared to his saint of a twin, Vash. The thought made him chuckle. Superior, trapped within a place meant for the worst of an inferior race, stuck in a constant state of drugged nausea. His brother's plan was beyond brilliant.

There was a knock on the heavy metal door. He didn't answer, as he never saw a point in answering. _They_ intruded anyway, whether _they_ was someone he wanted to see or not. The illusion of choice. A small woman stepped in; the dark haired one he'd met briefly before he was tossed into his cell. Behind her was a taller female, smiling, although out of politeness or stupidity, he couldn't tell.

"Millions Knives," the shortest addressed him formally, "I'm Meryl Stryfe, from the Bernadelli Insurance Agency."

"And I'm her partner, Milly Thompson."

"We need a statement from you in regards to the "

"Go away," the Plant interrupted in a low tone. "I have nothing to say to either of you."

"I figured as much. If you change your mind.." Meryl placed a pad of paper and a pen on the mattress, stepping back cautiously. "Please let us know."

"I hope you feel better, Mr. Knives," Milly said as they shut the door to the outside world.

He sat, staring at the writing utensils for some time, contemplating. It was his chance. His only chance. At last, he might be able to escape the white hell and the sedative highs, inedible food and rambling humans. He picked up the pen. They wouldn't believe him, but he could try...

And he began to write.


	2. One

**

* * *

One**

* * *

For it to be understood entirely, I need to start from the beginning. 

I remember each adventurous hour, every day of all those years, and still cannot find the point at which I lost my real sibling. Perhaps it was when we first crashed onto the sandy planet and we stared into the red sky, filled with thousands of falling ships. He cried, but I don't know whether it was truly out of sadness... or in happiness.

Those first years were the hardest of our lives. We discovered nearly everything on our own, our textbook wisdom the only guide for us. How to make a fire, dig for water, catch and kill - they were all so foreign, but they became routine until we found the wreckage of other ships. Vash followed me wordlessly through the endless desert while I tried to find a place for us to sit out of the sunlight. At midday we were soaked in our own sweat, and under the shade of a cliff he said his first words to me since the crash. "Knives, I'm hungry."

"What do you want me to do?" I sighed, leaning against the rock.

"Did you pack any -"

"No."

"What about the -"

"No."

Vash frowned, putting his head in his hands. "We're going to die out here."

"We are not."

"I'm thirsty, I'm hungry, I'm sweaty, I'm hot, I'm tired, and I'm stuck with you. I'm going to die," he grumbled into his palms. I stood up and began unzipping and unbuttoning the top of my suit, tossing it on the ground near our bags. He looked up at me. "And why're you getting naked?"

"I'm not. I'm going to find some damn food," I replied bitterly, climbing up the rock to get a better view of the area.

"You're going to get a sunburn or something," he called from below.

It was the only thing I could think of to do, and was rather proud of myself when I spotted _something _moving. We hadn't seen tomases before and I figured its meat was as good as any other. Crawling back down, I tried to think of a way we could kill it; not having weapons as of yet, and the animal was larger than the two of us put together. But the stupidity of youth works wonders.

"Okay Vash, I need you to do something," I nudged him and pointed into the distance. "You see that? That's going to be lunch."

"Eeew, Knives.."

I shook my head, and he smiled. "But food doesn't have to look pretty, right?"

"Look, all I need you to do is get it to run to me."

"How am I suppose to do that?" Vash frowned, looking back at the animal.

"I don't care. Smack it, yell at it hell, bite it if you want. But I need it to run. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

I grabbed the top half of my suit I had stripped earlier as I watched him walk out towards the creature. He stopped a few feet away from it. Waiting, waiting... something I didn't have patience for. "_What are you doing?"_

_"It's drinking."_

_"We can check whatever it is later. Come on." _

Vash walked forward, and it looked up. Another step, and it began to move away. _"Get it to come the other way."_

_"I'm trying!"_ He tossed small rocks and anything else he could find, eventually getting the tomas angry enough to chase him. The initial plan was to strangle the thing by wrapping the fabric around its neck as it ran by, but it ended up having quite the opposite effect, dragging me along. A little known fact about the animal is that their legs are not at all as strong as they look; one kick to the knee can break the cap efficiently and send it tumbling. Thus, my flailing was not in vain, and it slammed head first into a dune, tossing me onto the grainy earth several feet away with bruising force.

Vash stood a few feet back, gasping for air.

"Kill it," I shouted at him.

His aqua eyes locked on the nearby cloth, and he shook his head, looking back at the animal. "I can't do it, Knives. Not like that."

"You can cut a steak, you can kill this fucking thing," I growled, struggling to sit up. He stepped back, and I knew I'd have to do it. Taking care of everything, like always. We dragged it back under the shade of the cliff, and I sighed as I laid down in the cool sand. It stuck, but it felt so good at the same time; a feeling that became comforting after awhile.

"I'll be right back." Vash walked off, out of my line of sight. I continued to stare at the sky, wondering if this had been the best idea. Of course it was. I can't doubt myself now; he'll know. We're here, and we'll make Eden a real one, without Rem or the humans, with freedom for our sisters. It will be..

"Knives."

"What?"

"I found water."

I sat up and found myself staring into those wide, green eyes.

He extended a cup, smiling, "I didn't think I'd use this thing, but.. here, have some." It was free of sand, dirt, or strands of weeds; clean and perfect, and it never tasted so good.

"Oh, and I found this while I was digging through my bag," Vash said excitedly, handing me a small knife. "So I guess we're all set now on lunch, huh?"

"With the exception of something to cook it on, yes."

"Got that, too."

"Well get to it," I smirked and continued to sip from the cup he handed me. The process, from the time I saw the tomas to the moment Vash began cooking (or burning, rather) it on some artificial kindling he had found at our crash site, had taken more than one hour, and after that we both agreed it was better to use them for finding water instead.

The only habit Rem bestowed in us that I was thankful for while we wandered was the proclivity for sharing. It didn't last forever, though. Hormones led to arguments, anger, then selfishness; more often than not resulting in one of us spending a night alone somewhere and regretting having left, crawling back with apologies only to do it again days later. It wasn't until several years after we landed that we had our first _real_ encounter with awakened humans. I do not deny that I hated them, and I hated _her; _and he still saw the world through innocent eyes. Three men and a woman with an infant, asking for food and a place to sleep by the fire, which did not sit well with me. He pleaded with me not to kill the vermin, and the only thing I could do was leave, walking until I reached the wreckage of a ship. I stumbled inside, my thoughts tangling together into incoherence and nausea, and collapsed in the long metal hallway.

I searched the remnants for weeks, collecting all the things I needed for the guns. The blueprint was embedded somewhere in the back of my mind, almost like instinctual knowledge. All the months passed so quickly, I scarcely realized how long I had been gone, satisfied at the completion of the weapons I knew I had to seek out my brother. But he had been outside all along, waiting. I stared at the huddled lump, disbelieving, then I kneeled next to him. The soft emerald eyes lit up immediately.

"You came back," Vash acknowledged, his voice like the rustling of velvety leaves.

"Of course. I wouldn't just -" I began, but he cut me off, drawing my face to his with a slender hand and simply.. kissing me. All I had planned to say to him about Eden, the humans, so akin to the arachnids I was eager to vulgarly label them as; everything, my very logic melted with the heat of his mouth. I dropped the guns into the sand out of silent surrender, groaning and running my fingers through his wheat-like hair as he opened his lips further over mine to snake his tongue forward.

It seemed to last centuries, and I was abducted and tortured by the rapture of it. Even as he pulled away I could feel cold where the heat had been, a phantom of pleasure for my memory. "Sorry," he grinned in that sheepish way he perfected, "Um.. what were you going to say?"

"I don't remember," I said, frowning. "It was important, but I don't remember." We sat, staring at each other, and I wished he would do it again. I wouldn't give a damn if my life ended right after, as long I could feel it just one more time. There are nights I still dream of it, whether he tastes the same. Nothing can compare to the austere..yet intoxicating.. feeling of his kiss a poison that could never be tainted with any amount of alcohol or drugged food.

"What're these for?"

Ah, yes! The guns the sole purpose for my absence. "These," I smiled as I took them and got to my feet, "..are what we will use to destroy humanity. This is mine, and this one is for you."

Vash took the gun from me and peered at it curiously, turning it this way and that. Examining it. I was surprised he took it so willingly, and I felt that twinge of excitement, because I knew we would be able to do it. My dream would be his dream. He glanced up at me, and something.. something was wrong. I didn't see the gentleness that was there before. It was a cold, contemptuous glare, like that of an animal set on revenge. The silence that had appeared so pleasant and comforting before was gone, replaced by an overwhelming fear.

It hurt, but the pain wasn't even close the wrenching of my heart. I looked up at him, holding my wounded leg, inwardly screaming_ over and over_, 'I should have known! I should have known! I should have known!' He pried my gun loose from my fingers. "Well, I guess this is goodbye. I love you so much, Knives, but you know and I know.. we would have ended up fighting for it in the end."

"For what? For what!"

"Reign over_ them."_

I cried for the first time in years. "That's not.."

"What you planned? I know." He kissed my forehead. "Just remember. I love you."

I had only myself to blame.I gave him the power, and so eagerly. I never thought, even after he shot me, that he would leave. He hit me with the butt of the gun, severed our mental link, and left me bleeding in the sand.


	3. Two

_Note: _This was written before the release of Legato's past in Young King Ours.

* * *

**Two**

**

* * *

**

Knives sighed as he stared down at the piece of paper, looking at it as if it had some kind of answer for him. The hiss of the airlock on the metal door interrupted his stream of thought, and he stuffed the paper and pen under the starched, hard mattress. He cast a glance of baleful frost at the orderlies, wrinkling his face in disgust as they entered and surrounded him.

"Alright Plant, let's finish up nice and clean this time, what d'you say?"

He considered the options as he stared at the small pills held out to him. Sedation and intramuscular injection, or dissolving tablets. It wasn't a hard choice to make, although he knew he didn't need either, but arguing had done nothing but infuriate both him and the staff. He took the chalky medication from the man and reluctantly stuck them under his tongue, finding after the second week that the taste was nearly unnoticeable that way. The orderly nodded toward the others to vacate the room, and he cast a sneering glance at Knives in farewell as they left him to his solitary white hell once more. Rolling his pale blue eyes almost to the point where he could observe his own brain, Knives withdrew the notepad and pen from its hidden niche.

* * *

I don't believe in accidents, chance, or coincidences. Fate is drawn deep inside the bloodline after conception, and no amount of free will can derail the events. Seperated from the only solace I had, I was _meant _to find Legato - the rough sketch of a human boy brought to life - although I never realized it until years later.

Somehow, I managed to limp, crawl and claw my way back to the wreckage. By this time the shot to my leg had stopped bleeding, clotted by sand and probably a thousand other things, replacing the constant throbbing with a different kind of pain that I can only compare to being stabbed with a maliciously sharpened spoon. There might have been bandages or medicine somewhere on the ship at one point, but my chance of finding them was slim. I settled for the bliss of the cooler air instead, leaning against the metal of the first hallway, I pressed my face to the wall and shut my eyes. Sweat seemed less bothersome, while the eerie silence of everything became far more disturbing with each passing minute.

There are precious few gaps in my memory, one of them being how long I spent asleep in that pitiful state, praying in my own, demented way, to a deaf sky that Vash would return. Being in pain from a wound most likely infected, as well as having everything you cared about and loved thrown back into your face in the worst imaginable way, is an extremely humbling experience. I felt groggy, disoriented and like my intelligence quotient had plummeted dramatically as I searched my mind dumbfoundedly for some sort of explanation. I felt like one of those abhorrent spiders, and I decided firmly that I never wanted to feel so low again.

My first objective was to rid myself of the mildly infected _gift_ my twit of a brother bestowed upon me so generously. So, I hobbled off in search of a fairly common desert relative to aid me: Larrea tridentata, one of the most versatile medicinal plants in existance in this vast desert world. The search didn't take me long. I collapsed rather than sat, careful to take as little as possible from her.

While attempting to crudely mash the leaves into some kind of paste, I watched this thing stumble around for several minutes before realizing it wasn't an animal, but a human, most likely driven half mad from desert fever. It wandered in no particular direction, often turning around and going the other way before continuing on its original path, clawing at the dirt and sand, stumbling over its own feet. Whether it was male or female was impossible to tell, all defining features shrouded by hair that resembled the nest of a desertquat. And just when I thought I had seen the last of it, it turned and looked at me. At _me. _I paused from my cleansing attempt and stared back, watching as it began to stagger in my direction. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be nothing but a walking skeleton in sand worn rags, though its large, wild eyes gave quite the opposite impression.

_"Please," _it asked, eyes shifting uneasily,_ ".. cactus.. no...please, water.."_

"I don't have any water. You're out of luck, parasitic desert spider. Leave me be," I hissed venomously, slitting my eyes at it.

_"You're hurt."_ it pointed out. Delightful masters of the obvious, humans are.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," I replied, continuing to miserably clean the bullet wound until I realized it had spoken to me telepathically. I had never seen a human quite as unusual as this one, but there was nothing else it could have been. I wasn't sure what to say then, both intrigued and irritated at the interruption.

_"I can help,"_ he offered, leaning to look at the wound. And although he was small, I had never been so relieved to hear those words before in my life.

The boy coaxed and insisted that I follow him to "the place he hid in". I nodded out of sheer determination to win the battle with the pain and ache and infection of the annoying wound, distracted by the pain running through my limb more than anything else. He managed to, by some miracle, hold a good deal of my weight and make it easier to walk, leading me into wreckage from a SEEDS ship which was, for the most part, intact. There were two rooms that could still be heated, a makeshift bedroom and a dining area with remnants of a kitchen, saving us from the chill of the falling night air. Except for a small, crudely made bed, the entire place was bare. With a sigh, I fell back onto the huddled, moth ridden rollout mat piled with the furs of two less-than-expertly skinned animals, some various rags and what might have at one time been blankets. I clenched my teeth as I propped my leg up. The dirty child had scampered off down one of several hallways, returning minutes later with a box that read "First-Aid", much to my delight. He sat on the floor and opened it, looking at the contents with a puzzled expression on his face.

_"We need to remove the bullet. I apologise in advance for the pain, but all I have to use are these metal tweezers," _he said to me mentally, holding up the tool. His projected voice was soft, carrying a sense of secret and mystery with each sentence, intelligence beyond his years. I wondered if he was older than he looked, or if he was just far smarter than an average human. I certainly had no medical knowledge beyond how to apply a band-aid...that would of course, change drastically in the years to come.

"It's better than trying with fingers." I plucked the strange instrument from his hand and glanced down at the bleeding mess, debating.

_"Allow me."_ He took them back and leaned over my thigh. _"Hold real still."_

I bit my lip hard enough to make it bleed, twisting my fingers in the blanket beneath me as I tried not to twitch the strained muscles being prodded. The human thing didn't even seem phased by the blood or torn tissue as he dug around in the open wound.

_"You never told me what your name was,"_ he projected as he narrowed his eyes at the tweezers seeming to be mentally cursing them.

"Millions Knives," I stated proudly. It's quite an important name in the Plant language, because of the attributes it describes. But that would require a lot of explanation. I'll get to it later.

"_That's an odd name for an angel."_ Angel? I searched my mind for the word, unsure whether I knew it. Oh yes; creatures of silly human religion.

"I'm not that kind of ..angel." I nearly laughed, squinting an eye closed at the pain.

_"There's all different kinds.."_ he insisted. As we conversed telepathically, it occurred to me that the creature did not seem to be able to speak aloud at all. I found the premise quite curious.

"Well.." Before I could respond, he nearly leaped with triumph as he pulled the lead from my leg. _"I got it!"_

Excruciating.

"Thank..you.." I let my head fall back against the wall, sighing. I spent a great deal of time doing two things: wondering where Vash had gone, what he was doing, how he was doing.. and trying to convince the boy I was not from Heaven. He would ask to call me by ridiculous, elaborate names, until I caved in, laughing. Then, I finally decided to tell him that 'master' was appropriate. He nodded enthusiastically. I became accustomed to it, even began to like it.

"Tell me," I resisted the urge to call him "spider" or "creature" before I continued. "..You know my name and you now have something to address me by. What are you called?" ..I cursed myself. "What are you called" sounded far too Plant-like and would likely confuse the thing. "I mean, what is your name"

_"I don't have one." _

"Everybody has one. Your parents wouldn't have been able to address you otherwise."

The dark eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. _"Freak, weirdo, idiot, queer, bastard -"_

_"Stop." _There was no doubt in my mind he knew what every word meant, but it was also very obvious his parents had either abandoned him completely or handed him over to some person who cared just as little. It wouldn't have surprised me in any case if neither one bothered to name their own offspring. "Those certainly won't do."

He frowned, nodding slowly as he fidgeted with a torn end of the ragged cloth he wore. I might have been able to get along fine calling him "you" or "human", but he wouldn't stay a child forever, and I had no idea how long I would stay before looking for my brother again. The boy might even try to follow. Sighing, I tried to think back to the names of the people on the ships, first and last, and found none of them suited him. Too masculine, too feminine; all too meaningless, really. I decided something simple like 'Brian' would certainly not be good enough, and set to analyzing the features of the boy as best I could. His calm and sly nature was an excellent trait to examine, but all the words that came to mind were bland or overused. There had to be a medium.

"Legato," I said finally, considering as it rolled off of my tongue. A wonderful word to describe the smooth, flowing music of a human life. However, the sound of Legato's life wasn't all beautiful. It told of his unspoken pain, the days like each key, struck and abused under the control of a cruel, invisible pianist.

Unfortunately a human can not function in society without a surname on Gunsmoke. I had thought about this, and I knew that humans had two, sometimes three names, just as we Plants do. To give him my own second name sounded rather ridiculous.. _Legato Knives_.. not to mention the fact that within my Plant mind it made no sense. We name each other and our offspring by absorbing and observing the most enigmatic characteristics of the unnamed in question, and producing from it a rather cryptic description that suits the person's every personality facet.

As I looked upon the child I had decided to call 'Legato', he reminded me suddenly of the flawless beauty of a perfect Eden in bloom. Innocent. Vivid. Carefree. I analyzed this trait to the extreme point - carefree..like Eden in bloom. Summer time. The closest thing I had seen to either one was the simulated "earth summer in the countryside" rec-room bio dome...where the colors were so bright they nearly burned my eyes. The sky was crisp and coudless, not mute by any form of human interference..

Bluesummers.

"Legato Bluesummers," I announced, trying to sound enthusiastic. He smiled with that innocent-even-when-guilty sort of smile all children have, though I didn't think him capable of really smiling at all, as absurd as it may sound.

"_I like it."_

"Good."


	4. Three

**Three

* * *

**

I learned a valuable lesson early in my life: parenting isn't an easy task. 

Legato was very smart and quick to catch on, but that never hid his age completely. After teaching him how to speak verbally, I quickly found myself with a respect for anyone who could manage to raise more than one child with their sanity intact. He would thumb through the remains of an old dictionary I had found in one of the lower decks, repeating single words simply because he liked the way they sounded. 

"Master, don't you like the way 'pseudohypoparathyroidism' sounds when -"

"I think you've had enough of that for today," I sighed, snatching the book from him. "Why don't you go play in the desert or something." 

He frowned, looking around for some other form of entertainment. Human children are curious, needy creatures; unlike the relatively calm natured Plant child, who has only a year to be in any state of ignorance. The first reaction to annoyance was always to stifle and beat it, which was drastic and unnecessary with Legato. I had little patience, but my hatred subsided in each passing day. Slowly. 

I became so many things, many of which astounded and amazed me. I discovered that being a Plant Angel, I was exceptionally versatile..though not as versatile as Elendira, whom I would come to meet in later years. I learned a bit more about myself through self-exploration, and ventured into that part of my heart I had saved for Vash that was vacant and waiting. In two days, Legato was following, silent and close at my heels like a ravenous, yellow-eyed wolf, while I led the search for some place to settle in. I wanted a stable roof - not some broken down loose metal that might come off during the next sandstorm. I needed access to a computer, so a SEEDS ship with even a few remnants of lost technology would be good to start with. The rest I could repair.. and most of all, inside of me.. I needed a _home_. 

We wandered silently together until we came across a sinkhole that dropped into a huge network of underground metal rooms and corridors; it was an empty base under the sand. Almost the entire place was intact, and after removing the antlions from the area, it was perfect. Legato cleaned up constantly, and I assembled a trap door over the sinkhole to keep the sand out until someone wanted to get out. 

I began plotting, planning, trying to assemble broken bits of information so that I could stop Vash, catch him and perhaps figure out what in the hell went wrong in that carrot-brain of his. My mind lead me in loops and circles until... 

July. 

My second mistake and Vash's first real victory. The destruction gave his smile a backbone, along with the tragic story of how I deceived him. Everyone he told believed him, and who wouldn't? All the proof is there - if you don't scratch below the surface. Sadly enough, humans are not sophisticated enough to uncover things like that; they are susceptible to deception, manipulation and they are physically and mentally unable to see anything below skin deep or what is laying out in front of their eyes readily. In short, they make miserable problem or puzzle-solvers. 

It took me ten years to find Rem's only living relative; her final genetic link. In the beginning I was absolutely perplexed as to how I knew this person's name and why I might need to seek them out, and then I realized that it was not an interest of my own - it was Vash's mind, far from me but with such willpower and determination that I could hear his thoughts pulsing in my mind's nerves just as if he were behind me. What he wanted with them was entirely irrelevant, however. The only logical solution, to me, was to be the first one there - and destroy them before he could incorporate them into his delusional intentions and purpose.

I left before Legato woke. I've never been partial to goodbyes, and he was nineteen then, beyond old enough to take care of himself. The sky was still dark and the stars - I remember stopping to stare several times - were the brightest I had ever seen. 

There were many things in July that could astound anyone who had never been before. It was the only city at that point to have paved roads and sidewalks, buildings that weren't limited to two stories (since most construction workers feared their creations would sink into the sand), two sandsteamer ports, and an intricate network of city wide transportation, provided by tomas-drawn carriages. Not a completely unpleasant place, but any area with a large population of humans can induce a horrid migraine. (Being able to read minds isn't a gift of any sort - it's like trying to concentrate while walking into a room of screaming monkeys.) 

The target, Mr. Revnunt Biskus (Passenger No. 300-89-9023AS), was visiting to further develop a new plant theory, which might have been beneficial in the end, but dangerous none the less. I had expected to find him sitting by one of the room's many windows, reading or perhaps talking on the telephone, but he was face down on a table in a growing pool of dark blood. 

There was Vash; composed, pernicious, and smiling. With his "divine" sense of justice, Vash had gone to the man to talk to him about Rem, and to get Rem's files. He had become outraged when the man, being Rem's last living ancestor, did not even know who she was. 

"Knives..I thought you might come to try and brainwash me. What are you doing here?" 

"You know why I'm here," I replied rather sourly, sitting on the edge of the table. "There are better ways to get my attention." 

"He didn't know who she _was_, Knives...How could he not know about his own family?" Vash said harshly, hurt in his voice. 

"I can't believe you actually expected to learn something. Humans are short lived creatures. Everything they know and will ever know is on paper or in a computer. That's all you should ever expect." 

"You're so sure.." I watched him move, staring at me with mint-toothpaste colored eyes that seemed on the verge of tears, until he was standing in front of me. "There aren't written files for the SEEDS database, are there?" 

"No," I answered shortly, waiting for his obvious question. I knew why he wanted my here. He could keep trying to prod at my mind and figure it out for himself, but his telepathy was nothing short of a joke. While he spent days listening to Rem's fairy tales, I focused on the improvement of mental power. "What's the password, Knives?" 

I shrugged. "There isn't one." 

"Liar," Vash whispered as he gripped my throat and jerked me forward like a bad actor; desperate to produce an effect, but knowing there would be none. I had no fear of him or what he might do.

* * *

Knives looked down at the paper, frowning at the yellow notepad as he crumpled the square and began to write again. A stack of little post-its, now nearly filled with his small, neat script.

* * *

Vash wanted to know about the full purpose for SEEDS, not the smoothed out version we were told as children. He argued with me over its importance; what needed to be done. I offered to tell him of our importance, our role in it all, and he refused, saying he knew much more than me. He paced, eyes fixed on something far away or perhaps non-existant, and told me he had figured out the secret to the weapons I had made. 

I shot his arm with no original intent of severing it, but otherwise wouldn't have been able to retrieve my weapon. The destruction of the city took place only moments later, which I cannot recall. The effects of using the angel arm vary from mild nausea to blindness and memory loss, (all of which I have experienced). I can always remember the heat, consuming and pulsing in time with our heartbeats, but after that.. emptiness. Red sky. Many people debate on how Vash "saved" everyone, seeing as how no bodies were found. In truth, everything was incinerated - thousands of lives that he claims to have never taken to this day.

* * *

The pale hands paused, releasing the pen and allowing each slender finger to flex. The insurance woman would be rather pleased, he gathered, if he could finish his lengthy explanation. He needed more paper.  



	5. Four

* * *

**Four**

**

* * *

**

"I'm sorry, I just can't believe that."

He was silent for several minutes, continuing to stroke the leaves of a small potted plant casually. "You love him."

"That's none of your business," Meryl snapped, folding her arms across her chest, "It wouldn't have anything to do with that anyway. After the things I've seen -"

"Think you've seen," Knives corrected sternly.

The small woman raised an eyebrow, and then returned to looking frustrated. It was one of the few moments she was beside herself, unable to make a decision. She reached down and opened the brown briefcase she had been neglecting. Carrying the damn thing had never made her feel more professional, anyhow. "I'm going to give you this paper. Finish what you started writing, and then maybe I'll be able to write _my _report."

He took the stack and set it neatly next to him, then resumed showering the rec room's only live plant with attention. Sighing, she left without another word, and hurried to the black payphone in the lobby. Her sweaty fingertips left their swirled prints on each little number, something she noticed absently as she listened to a steady ring.

"So?"

"It's too early to tell, but I don't think we need to worry."

"Alright. Keep your eyes open."

Meryl frowned at the dial tone. She was a leader; her eyes were always open... weren't they?

* * *

The sky was an amazing shade of red, unlike the hue in a sunset or the color of blood. It was sinister, spreading for miles before fading into blue. Somewhere in between dying and being saved, I remember closing my eyes and trying to accept it all, even through the smell of my own burnt flesh and the taste of it mixed with sand and dust. 

Then I heard something. Stumbling, curses in an unfamiliar tongue, footsteps – someone was moving the debris. I saw a flash of blonde hair and yelled _his _name, telling him I was alive, but the face that looked down at me with disgust was that of Elendira. He was actually looking for the bank's safe, scouring the city's rubble, but pulled me out all the same. I had met him just once in July, mistaking him for a human female and shrugging off his initial greeting. It wasn't a social trip, and I didn't intend to make it one – but Elendira was quite persistent and followed me to a café where he explained, in a desperate attempt to get me to talk to him, that he was actually a native of Gunsmoke.

The ride was arduous and the touch of a fur coat and manicured nails coupled with the scent of perfume and cherry lip gloss were all my senses knew until the world became dark.

There was the simple shock of lacking so many things, even during the first days of recovery, that I couldn't fully comprehend it. My brother figured me for dead, but I was far from it. Though I was incapacitated, I could venture into Legato's mind to see and hear, borrow his mouth to speak. He may have never lived to see me recover had I not ordered him to take my twin's arm. My sense of foresight has always been impeccable.

And for six years I stayed locked in that horrid thing, dreaming of when I might walk again. In my most conscious state, I would converse with Legato –

Light, cautious feet padded into the chamber at what my internal clock perceived to be the middle of the night.

"What do you need, Master?" came the quiet, obedient purr.

_"I need you to make yourself useful, since I've obviously underestimated my brother. While I recover, I want you to scour the planet and assemble a group of the strongest humans to face him. And send Elendira in here, I need to speak with him."_

There was no argument. Legato furrowed his slate blue brows as he nodded, "Yes, Master." He swiftly rose from his kneeling position and exited.

* * *

Elendira had wandered through every hall, poking his nose into every room until Legato found him. He sighed, strolling around the chamber once before approaching the bulb. "You could do better, I think." 

_"I'm not interested in your home decorating skills,"_ I snarled mentally, shifting uncomfortably inside my glass prison.

"Well, I know people. This place is a fucking dump; hardly suitable for a Plant, you know." He yawned. "So what is it? I've already done you a favor by getting you here."

_"I didn't ask you to do anything."_

"That's what everyone says. Ungrateful."

_"I'm not going to beg you to listen, either."_

"Spit it out already," he mumbled while digging through his purse.

Of course, people like Elendira either need money or power – which I had little of at the time – to _really _be motivated enough to actually hear what you have to say. I have found, however, that you can charm just about any person, male or female, human or not, with simply the promise of something they desire, as long as you have some sugarcoated mental image to dangle in front of them. Mind control works much the same way, but with this option you can always say they made their choice and pluck it right out of their memory.

_"Several things need to be taken care of while I rest, and Legato cannot do all of them. Your speed and accuracy are unmatched, and if you have access to the lost technology you say you do, you'll be an even greater asset. That makes you just the girl I've been looking for."_ I paused as he sat down.

Elendira smiled wide. "Go on…"


	6. Five

* * *

**Five

* * *

**

Legato, with his considerable skills, pinpointed my twin's location shortly after completing the first task I had given him. He gave me a rather detailed description of the situation before leaving to confront Vash – the Gung-Ho-Guns were ready and waiting for their individual missions, Elendira was busy with repairs for _The Ark, _and our spy was due to make contact with my brother within the month. Everything was in place. I could rest, hoping events continued in my favor – Vash was an outlaw, and the bounty that had been set on him slowed his movement noticeably. All that was left was the race to the finish – which one of us would survive and liberate our brethren?

I remember waiting in the back of Legato's mind, listening to his thoughts and his heartbeat, watching the people walk by, oblivious to the death lingering near them.

For each perfection there is a flaw; that is the law of the human body. Legato had an insatiable appetite that was practically legendary and it happened that, while purchasing enough junk food for three growing children, he found the lifeless body of the town shoemaker... and came face to face with my brother.

The body of the shoemaker took Legato off guard, but he carefully examined it. Expert work that could only have been committed by the other Plant and, removing the head, slid it into the brown paper sack which previously contained his handful of hot dogs. Being undeniably the most powerful telepath Gunsmoke has in its regime, he knew as soon as he came in contact with the body what happened. Vash needed money, and inquired about the HELP WANTED sign that was in the shoemaker's window. When the man remarked that Vash knew nothing at all about shoes and refused to give him work, he killed him.

Legato went out into the open, striding calmly into the courtyard and purposefully stepping by my brother before sitting down on a bench. Beginning to eat his oversized lunch, he mentally purred, _"So I've found you, Vash the Stampede." _

Vash chuckled nervously. _"Who are you?"_

"_Legato... the servant of Knives you so desperately seek."_

"_Where is he?" _Vash projected.

"_What would you do if I told you?" _Fifty iles away – I smiled. He felt it, I think, in the recesses of his mind.

"_I'm the one asking the questions. It's time for him to pay… he's mine. Now – where is he!" _

"_That is irrelevant. What does matter is that you suffer ceaselessly for the wounds you unjustly inflicted upon him. I'm amazed at how you can go about your business as though you've committed no wrong. I am here not only as a messenger, but to expose you. The quiet folk living in this town deserve to know the truth behind your façade," _he retorted, a cunning, smooth smile, true to his name, spread across his face.

"_What are you –"_

"_You can fool them, but not me. You'll understand soon enough – your lesson begins today." _

As Legato finished his hot dog, the shoemaker's wife simultaneously ran into the town square, screaming hysterically. It was perfect … and only the beginning of the war.

* * *

Setting his pen and paper on the floor, Knives heaved a sigh. He found the task of writing to be quite tedious and although some part of him felt like those little words, which he had chosen so carefully, would make no difference in the end, the days were spent doing nothing at all, phased out from himself and everything around him by medication. It was no way to live, and if there was any chance of escape through the means of this human woman – it was better than the alternative. 

The sound of the air-locked doors hissing open brought him back from his dream of the outside world, and he quickly tossed the pen under the mattress, while shoving sheets of paper with it. He watched the orderlies shuffle in, the usual four men followed by a more muscular man, who carried a needle and patiently waited for the Plant to be restrained.

"You get the special treatment today," one of them laughed.

Knives winced at the injection, but didn't bother to ask what it was. He could smell the seconal, and he slumped into the corner as the blurred figures filed out again. But the door remained open. They were talking now, the words muffled and more like constant noise than conversation – except for one, which he tried to pick out from the rest. It was familiar, and the thoughts, now swirling in a mess of jumbled fragments, scared him.

Vash stepped into the room, smiling and waiting for the door to close before greeting, rather cheerfully, "Hi, Knives."

* * *


	7. Six

* * *

**Six**

* * *

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

The image blurred as it moved, melting into the infinite world of white. Knives felt as though his stomach had twisted into a knot and was making its way up his throat. He shut his eyes tight, silently wishing away the red phantom and the discomfort it brought. But there was Vash, sitting next to him, watching him brother slink into the corner.

"How have they been treating you?" Vash chuckled, reaching to pat his twin on the shoulder, "We have a lot to talk about, you know –"

"No we don't," Knives snapped, trying to pry the other Plant's fingers off, and with little success. His hands were numb. They weren't working – useless, just like the rest of him. "Get the fuck out."

"There's no need to be hostile –"

"I don't… want to see you..."

"Aw, don't say that."

"..leave…"

"I'm here to help."

"I ..haaate you," Knives managed to slur, his ability to speak fading fast. He shuddered as he heard his twin move closer. There was nothing to see but smeared color, nothing to smell but Vash, which he remembered so fondly that he tried to stop breathing. The scent of the desert was just another drug to his senses. It became intense and smothering as the slow moving picture changed, and the face looking down at him – his enemy – was still smiling.

"I know better," Vash said calmly, shifting again, "But don't try to change the subject. I know you've been busy, and I know what you're trying to do."

"I'm..."

"I know how you think, and you wouldn't lift a finger if there wasn't something in it for you."

"… not doing anything… I wasn't asked to do…"

"Is that so?"

Knives grunted as he shut his eyes and reopened them, trying to force his vision into focus. It was the first time in his long life that he truly wished himself dead. Confinement was easy enough to deal with and humans were nothing new, but the increasing nausea coupled with his brother's surprise appearance brought him to a state of desperation. Vash always did that to him. He had to force himself to sit up and speak again, refusing to sit and find out what may happen if he didn't act. "Leave… now."

"Are we back to that? I want to help you, Knives. Really. That's what we have each other for."

"You're a horrible liar, Vash…"

"Now, now. Just listen. I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement. I don't like seeing you here, and I can get you out, but –"

"Go to hell."

Vash sighed, the look of concern fading into annoyance, and unceremoniously shoved Knives off of the mattress. He stood, frowning at the sight of his brother attempting to pull himself up.

"There's too much at risk here and I'm not going to let you ruin it. You better pay attention to what I'm about to say."

Knives coughed as he propped himself on his elbows. There was panic in him – real fear - something he had only encountered twice in his life. He was a survivor, built on his pride and the misfortune of others. What was he now? Clinging, he would not die – not before he saw the end of what he hated most. But he was helpless again, and feeling no better than the drooling human invalids that were too stupid to pray for death. The adrenaline might have been enough to keep him sitting up, had he been able to focus on the anger, but instead he collapsed onto his brother's boots, splitting his lip.

"I'm glad we understand each other," Vash said mildly as he pulled the other Plant back onto the cot. "The writing you're doing – it's going to stop. Today."

"You..."

"Shut up. Trying to convert my friends isn't going to get you anywhere, so you can thank me later for saving you the time."

Knives closed his eyes, convinced that his nausea was not only from the tranquilizer, but from staring at the moving colors of his brother. He promised himself that after the entire ordeal, he would go straight to the recreation room and cry on one of the fake lilies.

"I'm not done. Look at me."

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes again.

"If I get you out, I want your cooperation in everything. Hey, don't make that face at me –"

"…don't …do this… please, Vash…"

"You did this to yourself. It's going to be my way from now on, Knives. Do you understand?"

There was a long pause, and Knives remained unmoving, sprawled on the crude mattress. He couldn't even bring himself to respond anymore. What bothered him most, more than the fact that he was hurting now, was that he would be seeing his twin again. There was a promise in the other Plant's voice, and although it was laced with pleasantness, he knew better. There would be nothing pleasant waiting for him – not even from the naïve insurance girls who used to visit. The thought made his stomach turn again.

Vash smiled and chirped, "That's not so hard, is it? Speaking of which…"

He bent down and tore the sheets of paper from their hiding place, glancing at his brother briefly as he folded them in half. "Thanks. I knew you'd understand."

With that, Vash turned and walked over to the large door, tapping on the small glass window. He grinned at the orderly, shoving a bundle of rolled up double dollars into the man's hand.

"Do what you have to, just get him to tell Meryl he did it."


	8. Seven

* * *

Seven

* * *

"You're sure this is all of it?" 

"Yes'm." Milly smiled as she watched Elendira flip through the papers. "I couldn't find the L.R. record though."

"That's what we need most of all, Milly. We need the report on his death, which is no doubt attached to that record. The case wouldn't be solid without it." He bit his lip and closed the folder.

"I'll keep lookin' ma'am, but it might have been sent to another department."

"Hm. Do you have access to the files in the other two departments?"

"Yup, and I bet I can look for them in the morning before the chief comes in."

"Good. I think I can make this work for now." Elendira gave his best user-friendly smile, trying to seem sincere. It wasn't a strong point of his, but beauty and charm certainly made up for that. "Make copies. Store those in the cabinet where you found them, then bring me the originals tomorrow. We don't want anyone suspecting."

"Alrighty," she chirped, giving the transvestite a salute as she took the folder back.

* * *

Sighing, Meryl tapped her fingers on the table absently and looked over the lunch menu. She should have known better than to think he'd actually show up on time, but some part of her always hoped and left her wanting. And it always happened that, when she thought she was done waiting and beginning to think she had wasted her time on such a man, he would waltz in with a grin on his face. 

"Sorry, I had some things to take care of." Vash rubbed the back of his neck nervously after sitting opposite of the short woman.

"You could've chosen a better time to do them. This is my lunch break, you know."

"I'll make it up to you," he responded with a smile, leaning over the table to kiss her when she batted him away.

"Don't worry about it, we have other things to talk about."

"Yeah. I was wondering how Knives' case is going? Have the insurance files been taken care of?"

"That's the problem and the reason for investigation," Meryl said softly, "But I don't know if this is the best place to talk about it."

He straightened and nodded. "Right. We can go tomorrow if you want. You bring the papers for Knives to sign and I can talk him into doing it --"

"I'd rather go by myself."

"..What? Why?"

"If he really hates you, then you being there won't help in the least."

"That's really dangerous, Meryl."

"He's never been sane as far as I can tell, but I think therapy is doing him some good."

Vash frowned while considering. It made sense, but something in him pushed at the back of his mind, telling him that he should convince her otherwise. "I've lost a lot of friends to Knives. I don't want to lose you, too."

Meryl rolled her eyes and said firmly, "It's not like I'm heading off to his evil hideout in the middle of nowhere or something. Lighten up, Vash. There are cameras and security all over that place. I'll be fine."

"Still..."

"Look, I'm not going to argue with you over it. I've got to make a living and keep a job, you know, like normal people do. You should try it sometime."

"Hey! I can't help it if no one will hire me."

"I don't know how you get along in the world, Vash." She glanced down at her watch and sighed. "I've got to go. We can catch up tomorrow after I see your brother and squeeze a signature out of him."

"Meryl.." He tried to think of a response while she stood up and grabbed her purse, but his mouth stayed open in a small and desperate "o".

"I ordered water, so the waiter should be back soon. I'm sorry Vash, you really should try and find out what's important to you - you're not running for your life anymore, and I'm not going to be here forever."

* * *

The silence was deafening. Some days, even as I clung to what was left of my sanity, I'd scream just to hear something. How I managed to live through each week is something I'll never know - but I had enough will to not let myself die in such a place. I was above the planned demise, and I had to prove it to all of them. 

It was just yesterday that my brother had come to deliver the ultimatum. I didn't expect to see that human woman so shortly after. Her lips were pressed together firmly as she ran her fingers over the folder in her hands, a nervous habit that I had noticed the first day she came to see me. I continued to play my one-sided game of chess -- another man-made thing I had come to loathe, but could find nothing else to pass the time -- casting her an occasional glance as she approached.

Meryl cleared her throat, trying to sound professional, "I need to speak to you, Knives."

"About?"

"Closing this case. It has dragged on for nearly three weeks, and after having lunch with Vash yesterday, I can safely say your brother needs you more than this asylum.."

"Explain to me again what you need from me. It's been awhile since we last talked."

She began shuffling through the folder she had nearly crumpled to pieces in her nervous grip. "I have to write a report on the L.R. incident, so that it can be filed and insurance owners can be reimbursed. In order for that to happen, you have to sign a form saying that you were at fault for the damages. Normally we wouldn't have to do that, but it has become standard procedure if Vash the Stampede was on site, because we no longer provide funding for disasters directly caused by him."

I sighed and moved a rook. "I suppose I didn't have you figured out quite right, Ms. Stryfe."

She looked genuinely concerned when she sat across from me, and I wasn't sure whether to be thankful I had gotten her attention with the statement or not. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sure you know that a written confession to using an ethereal weapon of destruction is just as damning as a verbal one. When you first arrived, I was almost positive that you were working with my brother to keep me in here for the rest of eternity. He figures that if I should I ever be let loose from this place, I would be threat to his dominance in the society of humans."

"Well, I can assure you that my report won't have any bearing on how long you're in here -"

"You don't understand the situation, so it doesn't matter."

She pressed her lips together firmly before releasing a small huff of disapproval. "You had begun telling me the history of you and Vash about two weeks ago.. you said that I needed to know it in order to understand what happened in L.R. Please finish what you were getting at, Knives. I _want _to understand."

"All you need to know is that you haven't seen the real struggle between Vash and I."

"What about the Gung-Ho-Guns? And Mr. Wolfwood?"

"Wonderful ideas gone wrong, sadly enough..."

"You can't deny that you sent those men after Vash to kill him, Knives."

"On the contrary, Ms. Stryfe. I asked Legato to find the best mercenaries money could buy - even if they were the scum of their race - and send them after my brother, to keep my fellow plants safe. Their orders never included killing him. As for Nicholas D. Wolfwood, he held great promise, but the one thing I had not foreseen was him falling in love with Vash. He was convinced after meeting my twin that I was at fault. He became a threat rather than an ally."

"So you felt that killing him was an appropriate response?"

"Yes," I replied sternly, watching with grim amusement as her expression changed from determined to horrified. "It was the easiest way to get Vash to stop playing his game of hide-and-seek. But we're even now, seeing as how he killed my lover as well."

"I guess you're referring to Mr. Bluesummers?"

I had tried so hard to put it behind me, bury all the joy and bitterness that came with the memory of that human I once called my own. It hurt to hear his name again. "Yes."

"I watched Vash being forced into killing him. It wasn't his fault -"

"Of all the lies I've heard in my long life, that is by far the worst, Ms. Stryfe."

"Like hell it is!" She slammed her fist on the table, her face red and eyes wide. "Milly and I were taken hostage and nearly killed by that angry mob -"

"They were not under Legato's control. Sit down and allow me to explain, before you get me thrown back into my cell."

"Fine." She always seemed to respond better to kindness than hostility, and I always preferred the human woman tamed than raging. She sat, looking very reluctant.

"Vash knew that Midvalley and Legato were coming for him. Since you and your partner were present, he decided it would be better to play the pained hero. Though Legato's mind power is second to nearly none, he was actually killed in his sleep, while journeying to the city. He was a dead puppet controlled by my brother to put on a spectacular show -"

"There's no way… it's not true…"

"You know that you were not close enough to observe the conversation or even see Legato's face."

"But…"

"Had Legato been alive, he would have brought you back to me. Then my brother surely would have followed."

Meryl's eyes were wide, as if the piecing together of dissociated knowledge had torn through her like bullets. "B-but why…?"

"He can't read my mind and I can't read his, so we're at this century-old stand off. He will do anything but kill me to get what he wants."

"…And what is that…?"

I paused and stretched, debating whether to entrust the information to that girl. She wasn't nearly old enough to know about the Project or the goal of the crew, so it wouldn't mean much to her. "The code to the SEEDS ship cloning documents."

"What?"

"He wants someone to rule beside him, and who better than the person he views as his mother?"

"Rem…" She muttered under her breath, her gaze falling to the floor. "It all makes sense now."

"It's not too late, you know."

Meryl nodded and swallowed hard. "What can we do?"

"I have one person who has been working to get me out of here. Since I can't make unmonitored phone calls, we haven't been in touch. If you really want to set things right and do what needs to be done for the sake of your race, I'll tell you who to contact."

"Please," she said eagerly, pulling a pen and a small black address book out of her purse.

I repeated the numbers softly to her and carefully spelled out the name, although Crimson Nail is hard to forget. Meryl Stryfe radiated a new kind of determination, and I smiled as I watched her leave. Human females are completely emotional creatures - they need the reassurance to maintain interested in communication. Now that trust had been established (it would need nurturing, but not a problem at this point) the task of proving my innocence would be much easier. All that was left to do was wait.


	9. Eight

**

* * *

Eight**

* * *

There was only one thing that Meryl despised more than bad taste and discourtesy: travelling alone. She enjoyed having someone to speak to, even if it was formal conversation, and while her partner Milly could be naïve, she certainly was great company. Pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind, she made her way through the busy streets, occasionally gritting her teeth as the sound of thousands of discordant voices rose and fell. 

She scanned the crowds for the only thing she was told to look for - a blonde with a silver suitcase. It seemed far too vague when she had set foot off of the sandsteamer, but as her mind wandered with her feet, it became more apparent that a suitcase of any color would be easy to spot outside of the station.

Her wandering eyes finally collided with two dainty feet clad in candy-apple-red stiletto heels with ankle buckles. Those feet connected to a body that would make any lady envious, and a mass of blonde hair ethereally managing to flow in a perfect bombshell style hair-do. The figure was astoundingly intimidating, and Meryl had to collect herself before speaking.

"Hello Ms. Crimson Nail, I'm Meryl Stryfe and –"

"Cut the formalities," Elendira said calmly, raising an eyebrow at the woman's expression.

"You're a…?"

"Man. Yes. But I don't think Millions sent you here to discuss what I keep under my skirt."

Meryl blushed slightly and nodded. "Um… right. Mr. Knives told me that if I wanted to help, you're the person I should talk to. So here I am."

"I don't really need help, but since he was nice enough to consider it, I could probably find something for you to do. As long as you know exactly what you're getting into, that is."

"I'm having trouble believing all of this… that Vash is the real threat. I want to be able to judge for myself before I commit to anything."

"I don't know if that qualifies you to help me get Knives out of the institution and get Vash out of the fucking way, but if you're willing, I could use another pair of legs to run papers back and forth."

"Well, whatever has to be done… as long as we get to the bottom of this."

"You make it sound like some elaborate plot," Elendira smirked.

"It is, isn't it? I'm sure there are more people involved than just you, me, and Knives."

"No one that matters, but yes."

Meryl blinked. "I guess you don't care much for the human race, either?"

"Not in the least."

"What's your role in all of this, then? Knives told me in the end it was all about saving the humans."

"They must have him on some _serious _drugs," the blonde laughed, taking a moment to light a cigarette before replying. "But if you must know, it is my job to bring about the death of Vash the Stampede."

Meryl's lips remained parted, her breath catching slightly at the words. She had known that she wasn't going to like the answer, given all the things she'd heard thus far, but the last thing she wanted - no matter what he had done - was to live without Vash. "…Isn't there… some other way? He shouldn't… shouldn't have to…"

"With all due respect Ms. Stryfe," the transvestite interrupted, "Yes, he _does _have to die. I won't have it any other way."

"But –"

"It's not up for discussion. If you have a problem with it then you're wasting my time."

With gritted teeth and clenched fists, Meryl nodded. "Tell me what I need to do."

"It would be extremely helpful to have someone keep tabs on Vash," Elendira said softly, eyeing the passers-by through exhaled smoke. "You're close to him, right?"

Her first response would have been a remark about the relationship being none of a stranger's business, but she'd learned rather quickly that nothing about anyone affiliated with Knives was what it seemed, and reluctance to answer could easily put her in an abandoned desert grave. "Yes, we're very close."

"Good. I'm going to need you to do a little deceiving for me, think you can handle it?"

Meryl frowned. "Yes."

"Find out everything you can about Vash's recent activity – trips, phone calls, sand steamer rides, all that kind of thing. Discreetly mention Project SEEDS and see how he reacts, see if he'll talk to you about it and any plans he has. In the meantime, make sure you check in with Millions and let him know that you're onboard. I'll try to get the evidence you need to steer the blame from Knives on your insurance case as soon as I finish some… more personal business."

"So basically I'm just going to be some backstabbing spy for you?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" His lips, thin and painted dark red, curled at the corners.

"It doesn't matter since I don't really have a choice," she muttered under her breath. She sighed and dug a pen and a small address book out of her purse. "How do I contact you?"

"Call, like most people do." Elendira took the pen and scribbled an almost illegible number on Meryl's hand as he spoke, "And tell Knives that I've taken care of the cleaning up."

"Right." Her pride would never let her admit that she didn't think she could get a job done, but the whole conversation she just had left her feeling like scum on the bottom of someone's shoe, and she was more than happy to be leaving. She needed time to prepare herself – the following weeks were going to be the toughest and cruelest of her life.

"Remember - cooperation keeps people alive, Stryfe," Elendira added with a wide smile, watching her walk away. The cigarette he'd barely smoked was down to the filter, which made his grin fade rather quickly. More wasted money. He'd make sure to bill Knives accordingly when he had the Plant out of the institution and back in business.

* * *

**A short word from your Author:** I'm very sorry that the progress of the story is continuing so slowly. With so many people starting to write this same idea (and refusing to list my story as their influence) I'm going to need more feedback to make this work as original as I intended it to be. Please review and let me know how I'm doing. 


	10. Nine

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Nine

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The multi-colored fingers of sunset had just begun to reach out across the sky, and with them came the coolness of evening. Vash had never been an easy person to keep track of, but Meryl knew of the modest house he had purchased on the outskirts of Inepril. There was a time, not too long before, that she hoped it would become her home as well. The thought seemed impossible now... she shook the longing out of her mind as she knocked on the door.

Vash's smile was warm and welcoming, but it quickly faded when he noted the unusual sadness in her eyes. She wasn't sure how to begin or what to say when he answered, but all she needed was his motion to come inside.

"What are you doing here, Meryl? Is everything alright?" he asked, closing the door behind her.

"He told me terrible things, Vash. Terrible, awful things..." Her statement hung there, silently distancing them until she spoke again. "I don't know what to do with myself, really.. I'm so confused."

"I told you not to go." He gestured to a chair in the next room, waiting until she was seated before settling across from her. "Now, tell me how I can help."

"I just need to know if you've been honest with me."

"Of course I have."

"And you'll continue to be honest with me now?"

The Plant's expression became more stern, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "What's going on, Meryl?"

"Your brother told me that what I've seen, when Milly and I were sent to follow you, wasn't real at all - that you made things seem different than what they really were. It sounds so dumb now that I'm saying it, but I need to hear it from you, Vash." She frowned as she continued, "Tell me you're everything I think you are."

"I hope I am," he replied softly, leaning forward with parted lips.

She groaned. "I'm serious, Vash!"

"So am I!"

"Then act like it for once."

His childish grin never made its way onto his face, much to Meryl's surprise. Instead of retreating from the situation as he had in the past, he took her hands and kissed each digit, his eyes still fixed on her face. Then their mouths met. It was almost enough to make her forget why she had come to see him. The moment was perfect - until Meryl's stomach growled and reminded her that she hadn't eaten anything since she left that morning.

Vash laughed, shaking his head. "Been working all day, haven't you?"

"Well, you know me..."

"I wish I had something to make you." He sighed, then perked as if a light bulb turned on in his head. "You wait here, and I'll go into town and get something for you."

"You don't have to do that -"

"I know, but I want to. You've had a long day." He smiled and headed for the door.

"But Vash..."

"It won't take long, I promise! There's a place just up the street. I'll grab some wine or something and we can talk more, okay?" With one more glance back at Meryl, he disappeared into the night.

In that instant, the house had become completely devoid of life, and the room she sat in was eerie with its quietness. She was left alone with her determination, which seemed to be the only thing keeping her steps unfaltering. Vash had few furnishings and comforts, something she was partly thankful for. Meryl shuffled through the kitchen drawers hurriedly; utensils, four pieces of silverware, and then, past one more empty drawer, was what she needed. At first the envelopes proved disappointing, but scattered underneath it all were dozens of ticket stubs and crumpled notes. Curious and fearful, she picked up one of the papers.

Her eyes widened. Some words were smeared, others were crossed out, but she could clearly see who had written it.

_...Everything was in place. I could rest... Vash was an outlaw, and the bounty that had been set on him... All that was left was the race to the finish – which one of us would survive and liberate our brethren?_

She examined another letter. And another. And another. With each word she felt more uncomfortable in the room, her mind trying to imagine how Vash had gotten ahold of the papers in the first place. Perhaps he went to see his brother and was saving them to give to her? But then why hadn't he mentioned it? Her hands became unsteady as she scooped up a few of the ticket stubs. All of them were dated within the last two weeks, and along with them was a scribbled note, barely legible:

_Vash -  
__Cover the tracks. __-R._

Meryl snatched up all the papers and tickets, slamming the drawer shut before grabbing her purse and stuffing them inside. The sound of her heart pounding left all her other senses dead, even after she found herself running from the house and into busy streets. Milly needed to know. They needed to leave. Could they stay alive? Maybe she was overreacting. No. It was all connected. Her eyes were open. Where was she going? Was she in danger? They all were. Every. Single. Person.

Her thoughts stopped abruptly when she ran - face first - into her contact, Elendira. The transvestite growled, ready to hurl insults before he recognized the small woman.

"Please, you've got... to help me!" She choked out through her labored breathing.

"I met you a few hours ago, you think that you can ask me favors already?"

She scowled, trying to calm herself. "No, but you said we needed ...proof and I've got.. got something.."

"Great," he responded dryly. "What is it?"

"I was just ...with Vash ... I found – um, these -" Meryl pulled one paper from her purse, "Knives' writing, and these strange notes, and -"

"Calm down." Elendira pulled her out of the street, closer to a building wall. He took the purse out of her hands and dug through it briefly, muttering under his breath. "Well, it's good enough," he said finally. "Where is Vash now?"

She looked around uneasily, biting her lip. "I'm not sure. Probably heading back home."

"Alright. Listen to me carefully, because if you fuck this up, you're dead, and no one's going to come looking for you. Understand?"

Meryl nodded slowly, trying to ignore the numbness that had overcome her.

He set his suitcase down, reached into the blouse he was wearing and produced a wad of rolled up double dollars. "You're going to take this and buy yourself a bus ticket to April. When you get there, get a room at _The Oasis,_ and check in under the name Victoria Nowon – that's N-O-W-O-N. You're going to stay there until I call you."

"I can't just leave! Oh God, Milly.. I can't leave Milly here -"

"Consider her dead already. Don't give me that look – if you start crying I'm going to let you fend for yourself. That's better. Welcome to the Millions Knives relocation program."

She stared at the money that had been shoved into her hand. "You... think he'll really try to kill me?"

The transvestite shrugged. "Better safe than sorry, doll. I'll take care of everything here and let Knives know we've got what we need to get him out. Now go."

The suns had set, draping the city in a darkness that only made the insurance girl more tense. She noticed, with a hint of remorse, that everything seemed different. The wind, which she used to find so comforting, was a harsh nuisance. No face was friendly, and around every corner, down each new street, lay the possibility of death. In one day the world had become crueler than she had ever imagined, taking away all the things she'd loved.

And for what?

She let out a long sigh as she approached the bus station. Was it really just to help someone she believed was still evil at heart? _No,_ she thought sadly. _The lesser of two evils_. Bile welled up in her throat, adding another repulsive feeling to the ones she already harbored. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself, and the vomiting didn't assist with that task. Amazingly enough, she was able to purchase her ticket five minutes before departure. The bus was half empty, with most of the passengers seated near the front. She made her way to the back, thankful that her legs would finally be given a rest.

Meryl leaned her head against the glass of the window, arms folded across her chest, and cried.


	11. Ten

**Author's Note: **The first paragraph contains two sentences that could be considered offensive, and I want to clarify (better safe than sorry) that these are viewpoints of the character, they are not to be taken as _my_ opinion. **  
**

* * *

**Ten**

* * *

Knives sat at a small table in the corner of the recreation room, tapping his fingers impatiently against the plastic surface. He had taken his usual seat near one of the barred windows, bathing in the crisp, warm glow of sunlight. There were always at least two guards and three orderlies; never any other patients when he was present. It was one small luxury he was quite grateful to have, even if they only indulged him because he was a threat to everyone else. He found it humorous how the staff considered "protecting" the patients very important, despite the fact that said patients were useless anyhow. Why not kill them instead of wasting good resources? Some human behavior was a mystery.

A tall woman with dark eyes and choppy brown hair – Dorothy, he heard the other nurses call her - brought him a few sheets of wide-ruled paper and a pen. She was the only human he actually spoke to, regardless of the suggestive smile she occasionally flashed that made him uncomfortable.

She lingered a moment, watching him with genuine fascination. "You don't need anything else?"

"No," Knives replied, half-heartedly smiling. It was a rare attempt at trying to seem pleasant, which he found was rewarding enough to get the nurse to do small favors for him. He mumbled a quick "thank you" and began writing furiously.

-----

I fear that writing may be the only thing saving me from becoming just another screaming patient.

I don't know how many days I've been locked away in this viciously quiet hell. On most days (if they could be called such; one day is no different from the next) I'm too drugged to do anything. Their goal, without a doubt, is to keep me in a mental state that doesn't allow me to form blades or perform any "abnormal" tasks, like telepathy. They regard me as a wicked creature incapable of emotions other than hate and anger, no smarter than the desert wildlife. And yet, surprisingly, I feel no hostility towards the majority of the staff. The humans are simply doing what they are instructed, coping with a job that leads to no significant meaning in order to provide for their horrid, crying offspring.

The head doctor of the facility, however, has a great deal to fear if and when I get free. I know that he is the one Vash spoke to.

Unfortunately, I have not heard anything from that small human (Merral? Merill? Alas, I have no idea how to spell it) and I wonder if perhaps Elendira has disposed of her... he's too proud to accept help most of the time. Then again, perhaps everything is going smoothly and I need only to wait a bit longer. They could be shopping together for all I know. Very unlikely. It's incredibly ridiculous to be optimistic about it. She has most likely been killed or tortured in some unspeakable manner by Vash, in which case it will be another month until someone else tries to talk with me.

I don't know whether to be excited or extremely depressed about this. One less human in the world is not a step in the wrong direction, but it's not enough to be anything noteworthy. I've got plenty of time to wait for someone new, but the waiting is the worst part by far. Inedible food, an itchy mattress, solitary confinement, and boredom are all secondary to the time being wasted here.

But I refuse to curl up and die. That's what _he _wants, because he is a coward who cannot face what he is truly afraid of. After all these years I'm still unsure of his exact plan, whether it is to annihilate human life on the planet or simply enslave them all. The one thing I am certain of now is that he needs something stored in the SEEDS database, and he will not kill me until I've told him how to access it. How utterly pathetic! The thought of Vash cloning that hopeless dreamer he dared to call a mother is sickening. I'm almost positive that's what he would do if he could.

My dearest brother, if you ever manage to dispose of me and find this, rest assured I've destroyed_ her_ DNA samples. _There is no hope for her resurrection!_

-----

He set the pen down and rubbed his eyes. What he had just written was nothing more than feelings and random thoughts; what good was it? It couldn't certify his innocence any more than nutrition facts on a cereal box. The line between truth and opinion had been blurred enough by his brother. In order to prove something as fact, there needed to be more evidence than just what he saw and felt. He stared down at the paper for some time, rummaging through his memories, examining each carefully. Was Vash counting on the lack of physical proof to win their war? The only living witness to July besides himself was Elendira, who was also on Gunsmoke's most wanted posters.

Vash hadn't counted on Meryl switching sides, though. Knives smiled to himself. That would be the greatest blow to his brother's ego, and he could hardly wait.

It was about the time Knives began feeling like his old self when one of the security officers tapped him on the shoulder. "Time's up," he said in a husky voice, motioning toward the hall. "Nice and slow."

Knives folded up the sheets of paper he'd been writing on and left the rest.


	12. Eleven

* * *

**Eleven**

* * *

Eight interminable hours after she had boarded the bus, Meryl arrived at the grungy station in April. She had visited once, several years ago, when she was a small child - she could vaguely remember the town being enjoyable and clean, but she didn't bother wondering what had happened to it. The graffiti was a colorful contrast to the bleak stone, illegible pink looking as if it might spring off the wall and attack at any moment. She trudged past it unflinching while others paused to second glance it. A part of her almost _wanted_ them to be eaten, dragged away through the wall where they would never be heard from again, along with their drugs, guns, and dirty habits. But the pit of her stomach disagreed, growling and threatening to toss her guilt up for everyone to see, which she swallowed as quickly as the thought. Her face reflected the past day in dark circles and tired eyes, yet she still walked briskly, searching for the place Elendira had mentioned. The roads were exceptionally dusty and, if there hadn't been signs on every corner, hard to follow. Night made Gunsmoke beyond difficult to travel, despite the fact that there were more moons than suns.

From the time Meryl met the transvestite up until the moment she stumbled into the hotel lobby everything was a blur. She could scarcely recall the conversation she had with Vash. Would he forgive her? Did she want to be forgiven...? Was there even a point in worrying about it now that she had left him? No, she answered herself sadly, and it would never be the same. But then again, nothing had been exactly "normal" since she met that Plant – an outlaw back then, who had become something far more important than just his sixty-billion title.

Behind the main desk was a short, balding man with tiny eyes, who faintly resembled a well-dressed armadillo. When Meryl approached, he adjusted his spectacles and opened a thick book. "Welcome to the Oasis. Do you have a reservation?"

"Victoria Nowon. N-O-W-O-N."

The man blinked, looking astonished for only half a second before nodding. "I see. Please wait here one moment."

She hadn't been self-conscious until as he scurried through a door and disappeared from sight. Her gray eyes darted around for anything suspicious – guards, policemen, the like – and tried to calm her paranoia. There was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all. With a sharp intake of breath, she allowed her eyelids to close tightly and shut everything out. Nothing to be afraid of. She was here to be away from the threat, right? _Oh god..._

"Here you are."

Meryl's eyes snapped open. In front of her stood the round man, with a key and an envelope. The pounding in her chest slowed, and she smiled. "Thank you very much."

"Second floor. Please feel free to use the telephone, as it is on a separate line for your convenience, and at no extra charge. Will there be anything else?"

"Um, no, thank you," she replied, taking the items with mild curiosity and making her way to her room.

The relief she felt moments before quickly faded. Meryl had noticed the exceedingly cheap and tacky carpeting when she'd first arrived, but here it carried an unpleasant smell she could not identify. The halls were worn down and plastered with a hideous brown and gold wallpaper, which had begun peeling at the edges close to the ceiling. It was obvious that some work had been attempted but was perhaps abandoned halfway through, and it reminded Meryl of her small office that had yet to be repainted, despite her complaints. She never thought she'd miss her stack of papers or her damn filing cabinet, but she did. One drawer would only open halfway, and she could never find the key to the locked drawer. She smiled. That stupid thing had more memories attached to it than her home. Two weeks before she had received the assignment from the chief of the company, she'd told Milly that she was going to replace that hunk of metal.

Meryl stopped in the middle of the hallway. _Milly. _What had happened to her best friend? The corners of her eyes stung when she thought of Elendira's words, little echoes that filled her head with terrible images. Milly was an innocent; her smile told everyone that she was naïve, but she had the wisdom of life, even when it appeared that she knew nothing at all. For all of the despair clotting her veins, Meryl couldn't picture that pure soul dead, and she kept walking. Her sob was forced down, away from the ears that were surely trying to hear her. _Focus,_ her mind cooed reassuringly. Strength. Determination. _Revenge. _They will take me further.

With a sigh, she opened the door to her room - and found it vastly different than the rest of the building. The shock that had hit her moments before vanished, replaced by overwhelming relief. It had several beautiful standing lamps that appeared to showcase most of the furniture, particularly the cushioned chairs and the round, center table. The bed was large, welcoming, and covered in pillows, with a nightstand on either side.

She would have set her purse down, but the force of habit made her realize, much to her dissatisfaction, that she no longer had it. Slow steps brought her to the center table, where she kicked off her shoes and sat. Being able to just flop into a chair with all her weight and sink into the feather-stuffed fabric was enough to make her moan.

At least her time in hiding would be pleasant.

* * *

He had come knowing that the visit had two possibilities: bad or worse. If Knives had Meryl kidnapped or killed, it wouldn't matter whether he admitted to it or not – Vash would be unhappy. Then again, if he hadn't... well, that wasn't an option. Who else could have done it? Even locked inside that facility he was dangerous... there were enough ties and people willing to kill for him, though he may not have the resources he once did. Vash nodded to himself before entering, as if confirming his train of thought. Two possibilities; this _was_ the criminal, without a doubt. 

The room had been filled only with the sound of breathing and unspoken irritation for nearly twenty minutes since the air-locked door opened. They had played this game before. He'd been waiting for his presence to be acknowledged, whether it was in a positive manner or not, and decided that since he was receiving no welcome, he would simply begin. The sound, though not loud, almost seemed harsh in the sterile air. "Where is she?"

Knives glanced over at his brother, his voice surprisingly impassive, "Who?"

"Meryl." There was a pause. "Don't act like you don't know."

"I'm flattered that you think I can actually plan anything from inside here." With his icy gaze still fixed on the plant near the door of the room, he stretched before leaning against the wall beside his bed. "If you can't find her, it's most likely due to bad sex and you should probably -"

"I'm not in the mood, Knives. Where is she?"

The tension in the air seemed to thicken, and the paler plant drew upon it. He scowled, speaking with clear agitation, "I don't keep track of humans, how the hell should I know?"

Vash growled and slammed his fist against the white, closest to his brother's head. "I don't have the patience for this, Knives."

"Good. That means you'll be leaving soon." The other Plant smiled mockingly, continuing in a calm and subtly bitter tone, "I'm getting really tired of having you show up with threats. You'd think stuffing me in this place was bad enough -"

"Shut up! I don't care what you think or how you feel, it's for your own good! We've been over this from day one, and you know that you'd already be out of here if you did what I asked."

"Right." Knives folded his arms across his chest. He watched his twin, glaring back into the focused green eyes with equal ferocity. "Call the guard. These visits are much more enjoyable when I'm on the tranquilizers."

"Last chance, where is she?"

"You're an idiot."

Vash blinked, as if momentarily taken off-guard by the statement. He had become accustomed to the drastic change in their conversations, forgetting almost completely that the only reason he'd acquired an upper hand in most cases was due to the sedation. It was the anti-venom he needed to control his brother and make decisions for him, and now that he was without it, the battle would either be twice as difficult, or yield no information at all. But he didn't have time to stand around and interrogate – there were already too many things he had to take care of. With a sigh, Vash turned and headed to the door, where he stepped out and rubbed his temples. One orderly and two guards were always ready to act, looking to the former outlaw for a signal to act. They watched the plant in silence and with the infinite, necessary patience that was expected of them until he spoke.

"Ask the doc if he can find out if Knives had something to do with Meryl's kidnapping for me, will you? I've got to make it over to the sheriff's department and .. well, I'm going to be busy." He glanced back into the room for a moment. "And make sure the information retrieval methods are... unpleasant."


	13. Twelve

* * *

**Twelve**

* * *

Everything had a mind of its own.

Feathers danced over her skin like fingers, explicit and electrifying in their touch. Some were intensely cold, causing the flesh to prickle into goosebumps when they landed, while others were extremely warm, smoothing out the damage as quickly as it had occurred. Her eyes scanned the details of what she could see; little fibers and wisps of the plumage that breathed a strange new life into her body.

A set of lips met hers, and Meryl became, quite suddenly, alert and aware that she was dreaming.

Vash pushed his tongue into her mouth, initiating a kiss more forceful than any he had ever actually given her. She wanted to close her eyes and be firm in her reciprocation, to have some kind of control – but her lips fumbled awkwardly against his, her eyelids refused to lower and shut out his face, and she was pressed against another body. There was no doubt in her mind that it was the other twin who had begun to nuzzle her neck, biting lightly on her collar bone just as Vash pulled away. The contrast in warmth returned - _prickle,_ smooth, _prickle_ – and the feathery tendrils took their turns gliding over her stomach, caressing even more uncomfortably than before. It was a covetous touch, demanding and possessive enough to be a war between wings, where neither side could hold on long enough to be satisfied. Through the physical pleasure she still found herself struggling to understand how she could be asleep and be perfectly awake at the same time. Sure, she'd had her fantasies before, but nothing _quite _like this...

Meryl's breath hitched, all logical thought gone again as a strong hand cupped one of her breasts. Vash's expression was unreadable, something neutral or perhaps artificial, but remained unchanging even as he pinched her nipple. The action should have excited her more, and yet it was proving to be less pleasurable than it should have been. Looking into his face, regarding him with a strange awe as he felt her, she soon realized that there was a derisiveness in the intimacy; her attentiveness removed whatever thrill should have been present.

Green eyes, blue eyes, then green again. Someone had nestled themselves between her legs, hard and pressing, but she was disoriented, jostled and moved between them back and forth, now unable to follow the faces. More plumage swept over her line of vision, falling and dancing, hugging her neck and shoulders when she could no longer see it. Meryl didn't really care anymore, though, now utterly confused by the frustration she was having in her own dream. Vash seemed so ready, more than eager to thrust inside of her – and it had to be Vash, in her mind, because he was the one touching her the most - but he, quite disappointingly, pulled away. The only explanation was the other twin being present. She glanced upward, at Knives' face._ Prickle; _a cool feather brushed over her hip.

Was that ...blood? On his cheek? Meryl blinked.

And then it was everywhere, as if they had been bathing in it all along.

Complete panic set in, with her mind screaming incoherent directions to her the entire time.She was desperate to push them away, to stand – yes, stand up - to be free of them, shove them aside, to run - run faster! - to get out - get out of this horrid place that had lied to her, with all its beauty and its wonderful pleasure and she needed to find someplace safe – keep running, keep running.. she needed to ... be calm.

She hadn't gone anywhere, but she felt as though she had traveled hundreds of iles.

"You're going to be fine," a voice whispered into her ear, "You're going to be okay."

Her mind was the only thing running, and another touch was all she needed to put her back in her body. It certainly was one of the strangest feelings she'd ever had; not like something out of a dream at all. In fact, she felt more awake _now _than moments before when she was the center of a rather unrealistic threesome.

Vash was gone. She didn't know how she knew, but she was alone with his brother in that silence. He was talking, but she couldn't hear him now, and something told her it was important. But there was no more panic left in her. She watched his lips continue to move, slick with blood that seemed to slowly become the only color she could see. And then, as if some barrier had been broken, she could hear him clearly.

"Save me."

It was barely morning when she shot up in bed, heart pounding. Meryl felt like she hadn't slept at all, although it was pretty damn clear that she had been asleep. The dream was still fresh in her mind, from beginning to end, and it bothered her immensely. Why? Why did it matter so much? Her week had been trying enough - and a nightmare, regardless of its relevance to her situation, was the last thing she needed to worry about.

The phone rang, and the sudden noise was almost startling enough to make her jump out of the bed. "Now you're just being silly," Meryl muttered to herself, quickly reaching over to pick up the receiver and give a tired greeting.

"Oh good, you're alive."

She knew who it'd be, but Elendira was the last person she felt like talking to. His smirking could almost be heard through the line. "Well, I --"

"Don't care, don't want to hear it. I didn't call because I enjoy talking to you."

"Just so we're clear, I don't enjoy talking to you either," Meryl huffed with irritation. She'd met some rude people during her career, but this man – er, woman? - was the worst.

"Not many people do, especially the ones I work with. Anyway, I hope you're listening. I cleaned up your mess – or getaway, rather. I had enough time to do a little wrecking before Vash got back, so he's under the impression that you've been kidnapped. Brilliant, really, because now he's worried about something vaguely unrelated to Knives. It gives me space to work."

"Um, thanks... I think. What happens now?"

"_I_ get Knives out of that tomas pen. It's going to be slightly more difficult than I'd hoped, since the government has proven completely unreliable in the matter."

"What do you mean?"

Elendira sighed directly into the receiver, making a sharp static sound that caused Meryl wince. "The original plan is fucked. I was trying to avoid tearing the place down, but I'm not waiting any longer and that's my only option now."

"So where do I come in?"

"I'm going to need a hostage in case things go badly." He paused, then added, "You're pretty useless otherwise."

"Useless?!"

"Yes."

Meryl tried to keep her voice soft, though the urge to scream in protest was tempting. "You told me before, just two days ago, that you could use me! What about -"

"Are you deaf?"

The question, asked frankly and so seriously, made her stop, but did nothing to calm her infamous temper."Excuse me?"

"I told you the plan has changed. The sheriff won't listen to anything - won't even consider investigating, in fact – which makes him useless. The head doctor of the damn place won't listen, which makes him useless as well. If I'm not doing it legitimately there's no reason to keep gathering information. Trust me, I don't need any more reasons to kill Vash. I already knew he was the guilty bastard who destroyed everything good Knives had going for himself."

This wasn't the conversation she wanted to be having. But then again, what had she expected? The people she was dealing with now were all killers, with little or no regard for human life whatsoever. Meryl bit her lip, trying to think of something to say in response. Elendira kept things fast and left very little room to argue. She couldn't talk to him like a colleage at work; she had to ask the right questions. "Fine, you've made your point. What do I need to do?"

"It depends."

"On?"

"If you can handle the situation. The last thing I need while I'm working is for you to be running around screaming."

"I can handle it. You're forgetting that I traveled most of Gunsmoke chasing Vash, and I've seen-"

"Right, right, whatever. Just remember that you do what I tell you when I tell you, and it will go smoothly."

Meryl rolled her eyes, fidgeting with the phone cord. There was no point in trying to defend herself again; every attempt just made her more exasperated. "I can do that."

"Good. Wait two days, then take a bus back here. I'll meet you there."

"Well, what time should I -"

"Doesn't matter."

"But..." She frowned at the dialtone. There were millions of questions she wanted answers to, things she didn't understand that made her beyond nervous, and had to endure longer. Had she really given up all the things she knew for these people who didn't even care about her? Elendira made no effort to disguise his dislike of her, and Knives... well, she didn't exactly know what he thought, but it couldn't be much better than his employee. After all, he had admitted to causing the Great Fall, and planning to "exterminate" the remaining human population. Had it changed at all? What if he turned out to be just as evil as Vash had told her?

Meryl hung up the phone, shaking her head. No, she couldn't believe that she was doing this for nothing. There was no safety in choosing a side, but there was no way to remain neutral. _Perhaps that's what the dream meant,_ she thought absently, laying down again. Shutting her eyes tightly, she tried to imagine herself back in her office, typing reports and stamping documents alongside her best friend.


	14. Thirteen

* * *

Thirteen

* * *

Two days dissolved like acid eating away at a heartfelt time line. It was slow and undramatic, leaving gaps of disappointment everywhere. The ingredients were ready, and he'd lost the mold somehow, surfacing another failure in his life. Vash knew, before he decided to attempt anything, that there was only one way to get humans and plants to coexist, and it would take many years to accomplish his goal. He needed trust, which he now had by 'saving' the world from his brother, and he needed hybrid offspring. So close... so damn close it hurt.

But none of it was possible without Meryl.

He slammed his fist against the table, ignoring the jolt of pain that came immediately after. Was waiting all he could do?

_Fresh air._ That's what he needed. And just like that, he was out in the streets of Inepril, walking toward some unknown destination with his eyes on the ground. His thoughts traveled back to when he'd first met her, such a determined insurance girl, seemingly innocent of the ways of the world. Then she saw suffering with her own two eyes. She saw death. She clung to him for security, much like he remembered clinging to his brother – the bastard, it was all his fault, and he'd pay – it made the world seemed safer somehow, to have that comfort.

Meryl had just taken two steps off the bus from April, and wasted no time finding a bench. There was no telling when Elendira would arrive, although so far he'd proved to be ahead of every move it was still very likely he didn't show up at all. Every part of her body felt bruised and she wasn't going to spend the last of her strength standing. Perhaps if she'd looked around more cautiously she would have noticed the man in the red coat running toward her. It wasn't until she heard him call out her name that she looked up, and was caught between horror and relief.

_Run, _she chanted inwardly, but her legs didn't move.

He was smiling.

She couldn't do it. She was trembling, but she smiled back, or attempted to. Her lips didn't seem to be responding well either, but it was going better than it did with her legs.

Vash clutched her and began laughing. "I'm so glad you're okay! You shouldn't scare people like that, you know. It's not nice!"

"I'm sorry, I.. something happened, and I thought you'd be angry, so.."

"Why would I be angry?"

Meryl stared up at him, eyes wide and full of confusion. Was it an act? Everything she'd learned, all the pieces that had been put together ...but then, hadn't it all been shown to her by Vash's brother? Wasn't it obvious who was really to blame? But if that was true, why did she run? She shook her head, going back and forth internally over the options and finally pulling away with frustration. "I don't know who to trust anymore."

"I'm not surprised," the plant said simply,"And that's okay. Just be aware that's what he wants."

"That's what _he _said about _you."_

He blinked behind his sunglasses and smiled. "It's just a big misunderstanding, and it's over now. You're back safe and sound, and I'm going to take care of you and make sure you never have any reason to question any of it."

Her tone was low. "It's not that simple."

"Why? Talk to me, help me understand."

"I thought I knew things about you. I thought I was getting somewhere, that we were close. Granted there would always be things I wouldn't be able to relate to because you're a plant.. but ... then I talk to Knives. Not just once, but several times. He lays out a completely different picture of you, and of himself."

Vash's expression twisted angrily. "You can't believe the things he says, he -"

"Listen!" Meryl interrupted, temper flaring up. "I looked into it. You've gone places recently that he hasn't, like the town with the power meltdown. It just.. it all fit. I panicked."

"Instead of asking."

"I'm not perfect, and I certainly don't think perfectly. I should have told you when I first spoke to him -"

"Everything's fine." His mood seemed to soften as he spoke, "Don't worry anymore, okay? We can start over. I can get Knives to sign those forms you needed, and you won't have to see him again. That was actually what I was going to tell you before you ran off and... well nevermind! It'll be just like it was." He paused. "But you look like you need some rest. You should probably stay with Milly -"

"Milly?!" Meryl's voice was nearly a shriek. "Milly's alive?"

Vash scratched his head. "Well yeah, what'd you think happened?"

She clenched her fists. "Elendira told me she was probably dead."

"She's fine."

"Oh Vash," Meryl began to sob into the red coat, "I just don't know what to do. I'm a fool. I'm a damn fool and I..."

He held her tightly, one hand gently combing through her hair as he smiled to himself. "Everything's okay now."

Elendira pressed his lips together firmly in a frown, hearing the last of the conversation. He lit a cigarette and gave a small puff before turning the corner and cutting across the alley. Disappointing, but he didn't have time to step in. He'd just have to tell Knives later.

It would be night soon. The operation would have to wait until tomorrow, seeing as how security was twice as heavy in the evening. He was close to just marching in anyway – he wanted to shoot something. The whole situation regarding Knives' incarceration was not only stressful and inconvenient, but turned out to be elaborately more complex than it should have been. He should have had the plant out days ago. Stupid humans.

* * *

Meryl had never been happier than when Milly answered the door to their small apartment. The tall brunette seemed a bit puzzled at first, stating that she just figured her friend was away with Mr. Vash. It was almost like no time had passed at all, and it felt wonderful.

She was up early, as per usual, in the kitchen humming when Meryl rolled out of bed. With the recent events, one night's sleep in a familiar place was nearly enough to make the world seem right. Meryl's back was still sore, but her legs and arms were decidedly more flexible and felt less like rubber appendages. She could hardly believe where she had been days before – it was easier to view it as a bad dream, and now she was awake to enjoy the things that needed her attention.

Pulling her shirt over her head, she made her way into the small dining area and sat down. Just being there made her smile. "You know, Milly, I think we should have some girl bonding time."

"Oh yeah?" came an answer from the kitchen.

"Yep. What do you say we skip breakfast, go out and get some pudding at that little place around the corner? We can go window shopping after and maybe meet up with Vash later."

Milly came out drying off a glass. "Maybe a little bit later. But I don't really care for pudding, so we can skip that part."

Meryl's heart nearly stopped. "_What?"_

"You know, desserts. I don't eat them much."

She turned away, biting her lip, with her stomach twisting into knots. Her palms began to sweat and a familiar sense of dread shot through her. No – this wasn't right at all. "Um.. I'll be right back okay...?"

"Sure."

Her hands shook as she picked up the Derringer. It was the right choice, she told herself, this was _not_ her friend. The little relief she had felt for the past twelve hours was over with that one gunshot. She knew it should have alleviated some of the guilt and horror, seeing the exposed wiring of the strange robot laying on the ground, but it only made her feel more nauseous. She dropped the pistol, jaw agape. If this is what had comforted her, where was the real Milly? Another realization dawned on her.

Vash had lied. _He _did this.

Meryl's mind seemed to spin as she glanced around the room. Was he watching her? What else wasn't real? Tears began to slip down her cheeks, but she didn't feel them.

She ran into the chaotic streets of Inepril, toward the asylum.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I apologize sincerely to everyone for how long it's taken me to post a chapter. Life has been tough. I am working very diligently now on a copy of the last chapters of this that I like however, and hope to have it finished soon. Thanks for reading. :)

* * *


	15. Fourteen

* * *

**Fourteen**

* * *

No time to think, only do.

She needed to get there before Vash did. It was unlikely, she knew, but the realization only made her run faster, out of the busy street and onto a shorter road that lead straight to the front door of the hospital. _Faster._ Her legs were starting to give. _Just a bit more. _Heart pounding, sides aching worse than ever before, Meryl nearly slammed into the glass double doors, but instead fell to her knees wheezing. _Don't stop._ She pushed one side open with her shoulder and crawled into the building.

If she hadn't been in some state of shock already, she would have screamed. Instead, she stared, mouth agape.

There were three bodies impaled with huge, steel nails to various walls in the entry, and one, most likely the secretary, nailed to the service desk. Aside from that, things seemed normal – usual classical music playing, chairs aligned into neat little rows. No shouting, which either meant everyone was dead or they hadn't been dispatched yet.

Her stomach turned as she began to think about her situation. She'd left with Vash yesterday. What would keep Elendira from killing her as well? He didn't like her from the beginning...

A sound caught Meryl's attention. Clicking, one right after the other. Her eyes widened. High heels on the linoleum. She looked around the waiting room, searching for something to hide behind. The sound was louder, closer. She scrambled over to the nearest wall, shoving the chairs across the carpeted section of the entry and cramming her small body between the desk and the body nailed nearby.

"Do you need some help?"

"I'm fine." Knives' voice was hoarse, but distinct.

More footsteps, then a pause.

"You're going to fall over -"

"Shut up."

Meryl blinked and tried to listen closer...were they dragging something?

"When can I kill him?"

"We're not going to kill him."

A sigh. "You're no fun."

"So I'm told," Knives muttered, now visible and limping to the front door. His left leg was bloody, though it was impossible to tell from the angle exactly what had happened. Elendira was following close behind, the metal suitcase in one hand and a bunch of red leather in the other - Vash, unconscious but seemingly uninjured, being hauled along like a piece of cheap furniture.

And he was dropped suddenly.

Knives was about to growl something, when the transvestite spat out, "The chairs weren't like that before! I made sure of it."

Meryl's palms began to sweat, and she knew right then that she wasn't going to be leaving with them. She could feel it in her belly, and her gut had been right so far - granted the current situation seemed to betray her most recent experience.

The plant wore an unamused expression when Elendira tore Meryl from her hiding place, glancing at his unconscious brother before addressing her. "There's no reason to hide."

She blinked. "What?"

Knives nodded toward the blonde, who pouted profusely, but let Meryl drop to the floor. "You didn't do much, but you kept Vash occupied. He was so busy worrying about you that he didn't even know Elendira was here. So." He shrugged. "I guess you helped."

"You're not going to kill me?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, "I thought we went over this?" A slow gesture toward his brother. "Vash wants to rule the world. I, on the other hand, just want to help evolution move quicker, which doesn't involve eradicating you all like we had originally intended."

Her uneasiness didn't fade. Knives was a block of ice, so different than Vash – nearly emotionless, but here he was, promising safety, and she still couldn't believe him. He'd confessed to wrongs in the past, whereas Vash denied them – but something wasn't right. There was always that one thing that was never quite right. What was it? Maybe she was imagining it...

_He's not human. He hasn't learned to be human. _The answer her mind gave forced her to smile. "My life is ruined, but I suppose I should thank you for saving me from a harmful future relationship. And uh, for not killing all of us. Us humans, that is. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, whatever."

"No, really. Thank you."

Knives didn't respond. Instead, he pushed the door open and limped through. "Elendira."

A grunt, obviously in objection, and then Vash was moving again, being pulled slowly out of the building.

"Wait!"

The plant paused, not bothering to turn around. "We have nothing left to discuss."

"Hey! _Hey!" _Meryl took a step forward. "We have plenty to discuss, mister! I'm not going to let you just leave me here to get blamed for this, and -"

"Then leave." The glass door slammed shut.

She stood, staring, half in relief and half in astonishment. Just her and the deceased now. She debated for several minutes on whether to run after Knives or not as she watched him limp away, looking rather awkward next to the taller transvestite. With a small huff, she closed her eyes. She wanted to be at home, in her own bed, sleeping and pretending that the world wasn't as bad as everyone made it out to be. It was a soothing reverie to hold on to.

And then it hit her. She flew back, hitting the desk with a deafening thud. She heard cracks from all over her body, but all she could do was stare down at the long nail piercing her stomach. The pain gathered there in agonizing amounts, spreading outward to her legs, back, and arms. Her disbelief kept her from flailing with terror at the sight of the dark liquid, pouring forth generously where the linoleum met the carpet. Somehow she figured death would be worse, but she simply felt tired.

She had been able to look up very briefly, and noticed that Knives was out of sight, already making his way out into the desert with his twin to some unknown location, and Elendira stood only a few feet away, smiling.

"Sorry, Meryl. There's only room for one good girl in this town."

Her vision began to blur and darken around the edges, limbs became heavy. When her eyes closed, she still didn't know who had been the greater deceiver.

* * *

**End.**


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